


Loki's Bucket List

by EuphoricDystopia



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bucket List, Comedy, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Gen, Other, Silly, because bucket lists are serious things, but we can blame loki, crazy escapades, natasha has a week off, natasha instigates trouble, will star as many marvel characters as possible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-11 09:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EuphoricDystopia/pseuds/EuphoricDystopia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki may be immortal, but that doesn't mean he can't have a things he wants to do before he dies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is happening.

Natasha and Loki were lounging in the commons of Stark Tower, where they both sat on the loveseat. It was assuredly _not_ because of its connotations, but because Loki had gotten there first and refused to move even though it was basically a universal law that this was Natasha’s spot. When she pointed that out he had replied with a snarky, _“I don’t see your name on it.”_ No points for originality.

Natasha knew that “sharing was caring,” even though she wanted to shank whatever fucker made that a thing, but he took up so much room! He always sat with his legs a mile apart and his crotch all but screamed, _“Look at me! Look at me!”_ On a side note, it was a very convincing subliminal message and Natasha did look—eye candy is eye candy, after all, even if the lolly in question was a little more Willy Wonka’s than the typical specimen. Natasha had questioned him about his posture before but had received no satisfactory answer; even deliberately antagonizing him by accusing him of sitting like a man-whore failed to garner more than a crooked eyebrow and a mischievous leer.

His usual thinking aside, this time she was sure he was intentionally spreading his legs _miles_ apart to intrude more on her half of the couch.  Natasha, after failing to get him to move—she had even tried pushing him away, but for fuck’s sake, the man was built like a brick shithouse—was haphazardly sprawled, mostly upside-down, in her angst, legs thrown over the backrest and head hanging off the seat cushion.

Natasha could have moved to one of the many other couches available, but this was a matter of pride! She was not going to relinquish _her_ spot to some yokel of dubious qualifications; sure, he was of Asgard, but that meant diddlysquat in her book. It was admittedly a very trite matter, but in her defense, her mind had been rather addled by a severe case of Fury-induced mind-numbing boredom, and as a result Natasha decided to give into one of her baser urges—annoying Loki. Misery loved company, after all.

She was on forced leave from fieldwork for an entire week—seven days without a proper hit of adrenaline, and no she wasn’t a junkie—courtesy of a very concise email from Fury giving her a clear mandate: “One week leave.” It was clever. An order via electronic proxy circumvented receiving the resulting blowout in person and meant his secretary could redirect any complaints to the Suggestions Box, otherwise known as the trash bin (Fury’s idea of humor.) It wasn’t really so much the fact that she had a week off, she could use it; it was that she didn’t have a choice in the matter. Authority issues. She’s allowed her flaws.

As it was, Clint had taken the brunt of the repressed anger in the boxing ring, and because she was still distracted by her frustration afterwards, he had managed to elicit a promise from her to not seek him out the next time she wanted a human punching bag. Wanker. Taking advantage of her like that in her vulnerable state.

Clearly there were consequences to the blood rush to her head. She usually wasn’t this melodramatic; that was Tony’s area of expertise, and he had proved as much again—not that anyone had any doubts in the first place—only a few hours ago. From her upside-down perch Natasha could still see the remnants of the morning’s breakfast endeavor, a generous euphemism for Tony’s failed experiment. As everyone had stared on at the devastation, aghast, Tony had passionately declared, _“I shall make this right or my life will be forfeit!”_ Queen of Melodrama, indeed. Natasha didn’t know why—

Wait. Backtrack. She felt an idea begin to percolate her mind.

When it turned into a full-blown, veritable light bulb moment, she flipped herself up onto all fours and turned to Loki. If he insisted on being the in her proximity, he was going to get roped into her schemes.

 “Loki!”

No reply.

Natasha scowled but didn’t let his disregard dampen her enthusiasm. It would all be worth it. She tried again. “Loki.”

Still nothing.

_What’s he so focused on anyway?_ _Probably porn_ , Natasha thought uncharitably. As if cognizant to her line of thought, but more likely trying to indicate he was in the midst of something so go away, Loki waved a folder in her direction without looking up: it was a S.H.I.E.L.D. dossier. Fine. She changed tack: _Probably stole it._ She was going to pointedly ignore that fact Loki was an official consultant and likely had it for a good reason.

But there was no reason good enough to ignore her at this moment.

Natasha infused her voice with an edge of premenstrual hormones. _“Loki.”_

“Yes?”

That made her snicker; it seemed all males, Asgardian ones included, were wary of that menstrual rage, even contrived, as in this case.

 “What is it?” He asked impatiently.

“Have you ever heard of a bucket list?”

Loki stared. His thoughts were telegraphed quite clearly by the disbelief on his face: _“This is why I was interrupted???”_ Natasha had no doubt that he used three question marks. Guy was so full of himself.

Loki scoffed, “Should I have?”

Just to needle him she would say yes with a put upon air of disbelief. “Even _Thor_ knows what it is.” The second part was, unequivocally, the biggest lie she had ever told, even as a career-liar. She knew Loki wouldn’t notice though. Just one mention of Thor having any perceived advantage over him and he would get a serious case of tunnel vision.

Ignoring the dark look that had settled over his face, she continued, “It’s basically a list of things someone wants to do before he or she dies.”

“My dear agent,” Loki began, voice oversweet with sarcasm, “I’m immortal. For your edification, that means—”

She interrupted him before he could go full Asgardian snobbery mode on her ass. “Then just think of it as a list of things you want to do before you can’t anymore, for whatever reason,” she countered. To expedite the conversation she wouldn’t point out that he wasn’t technically immortal, just rather inconvenient to kill. “Everyone should have one, especially in our line of work. I do.”

Loki still looked unconvinced. She would play her trump card then.

“You know Thor doesn’t have one, right?”

Loki tried to hide how he perked up at this, but as always she saw right through him. Natasha wondered if he would ever _not_ fall for the play-on-the-brother-rivalry trick. And he thought Thor was the thick-headed one.

“We can make a bucket list for you _and_ start doing the things on it, so even if Thor ever makes one, you’ll still be ahead.” There was no way he could resist an opportunity such as this. And she was right.

“While I still don’t see the point of such a list for one such as me, I will humor you,” Loki said with a dignified air, as if she should be grateful that he would even deign to spare a second for her.

“Then I am eternally thankful for your generosity.” For such a ridiculous sentiment, Natasha thought she pulled off sincerity quite nicely. Loki still gave her a nasty glare but did not say anything. She ignored it and continued, “We can work on mine until you come up with something for yours.”

“Very well,” Loki agreed. Natasha thought it was cute how he thought he actually had a choice in the matter now. The documents disappeared with a twitch of his finger and he looked at her expectantly. Loki should have been more wary of the shit-eating grin on Natasha’s face. His mistake. Any veteran S.H.I.E.L.D. member could have told him that her marks always learned the hard way to be wary of devious Natasha.

She could be a bit of a health hazard.


	2. Locked Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve makes up for one of his missed college experiences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally just banged this out nonstop for the past few hours so apologies in advance for mistakes.

The last time Pepper saw Steve he was Captain America. Now, sitting at a kitchen barstool, he was Steve Rogers, albeit in his Captain America spandex jumpsuit for some reason and looking rather shell-shocked. If he were currently Captain America such a look would have her jumping Tony to have the best end-of-the-world sex ever (Tony would be quick to point out that the world could really only end once, so there would be no basis for comparison. Pepper would then gag him. Kinky end-of-the-world sex worked just as well.)

But for Steve, regular Steve Rogers—well, as regular as someone who is a living, breathing anachronism can be—to be looking so off-kilter was something for _How to Deal with Avenger Crises: The Illustrated Series, by Pepper Potts, Copyright 2014._ Pepper knew that as with any unknown concerning an Avenger, it was always best to approach with caution, as per _(Surviving) the Avengers: The Unofficial Handbook, by Pepper Potts, Copyright 2013_. She literally wrote the book.

“Steve?” Pepper asked, walking closer. Either his name or her presence registered because he blinked a few times and seemed to lose some of the glaze over his eyes. She would hazard a guess it was the latter that broke him from his trance-like state; his ingrained manners would never let him snub a lady.

“Yes, Ma’a—Pepper?” Steve said, hastily correcting his address to her. Pepper smiled at that. It had taken a lot of training to get him to sway from his inclination to greet her with unnecessary formality. After all, they were all family. At least they damn well better be considering all the sh*t (don’t swear amongst small children) she has to put up with.

“Is everything fine? You look a little,” she paused to take him in again, “queasy.”

"Ah.” He flushed. Pepper waited patiently; if his flaming face was anything to go by, he was clearly embarrassed by what he was about to share. “Ah, well,” he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, “I came back from a mission a few hours ago and I wanted to change out of this,” he said, indicating his spangled suit.

Pepper inserted an understanding nod here.

“But as I got closer to my room, I began hearing…things. Moans. And thumping.” Steve paused and seemed to mentally gird himself for what came next, “and then I saw a sock on my doorknob.”

_Ah._ Apparently Tony’s regimen to acquaint Steve with the modern era had reached the ever-important _Slang, Euphemisms, and Tacit Understandings_ section.

“I stood there, stock-still, for a few minutes,” he admitted, “I knew what the sock on the door meant.”

“Wait, really?” Pepper couldn’t help but blurt out her surprise.

“Tony informed me a few days ago,” Steve deadpanned. (That definitely merited a polite snort; she was sure Tony did so with unholy glee.) “Otherwise, I never would have known that it…” He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “As it was, I was mostly confused about why it was happening in my room.”

“Understandable,” Pepper said with a small laugh, earning her a wry smile from Steve.

“I turned to leave, because an intimate moment between two partners is still a special and private time, despite the questionable choice of location.” Pepper laughed again at this; it wasn’t too often that she was around to see the snarky side of Steve Rogers come out. “But before I could go, I heard movement and voices from inside.”

“Plot twist!” Pepper said with an exaggerated gasp. Steve politely shot her what he probably considered a dirty look but didn’t even register on a scale of Tony’s bitchfaces.

“I heard someone—it was Natasha—say, ‘See, there is someone at the door.’ And she opened it before I could get away.” Steve watched Pepper’s face for her reaction, but she wasn’t able to beat Fury at poker for no reason. (It had been at an Avengers fundraising gala for a burgeoning but promising charity, and Fury still demanded a rematch considering the circumstances. The two are related. Somehow. Ask Fury. Or don’t. The whole poking an angry bear thing. At the very least have someone to outrun.)

Steve continued, relating the details more stiffly than he would relate a report, “Her hair was mussed and she was clad in a man’s shirt, and it looked like she had been engaged in…strenuous activity moments before answering the door.”

Inside Pepper was laughing at the formality in his voice, as if by talking about it more technically he could distance himself from what happened, but all she said was, “Who was in there with her?”

Oh dear, was that an eye twitch she just saw?

“On the bed, on _my_ bed,” his voice was clearly strained there, “was Loki…in a similar state of undress and dishevelment.” Silence met this revelation.

“Oh,” Pepper managed, and once she could collect her thoughts: “ _Ew._ ” She shrugged off Steve’s questioning glance. She still knew him as psychotic, megalomaniac Loki, not the reformed (relatively speaking) Loki who Tony says is doing community service as penance (Pepper doesn’t know how literally to take that.)

“There are just some things that can’t be unseen. Or unheard.” Steve added, thinking of the moans that led up to the discovery. (This Pepper could certainly attest to from Tony’s manwhoring days.)

There was a lull in conversation as Steve mentally took to his memory with bleach and a bristly kitchen brush and Pepper tried to make sense of everything she just learned. They both failed miserably.

Finally Pepper asked, “Are you going to talk to Natasha or Loki about it?” Pepper didn’t think anyone could ever replicate the mix of emotions and thoughts spread across his face, although the embarrassment and nervousness were clear. She also thought that if he shook his head any more vehemently he would pull something.

“No!” Steve said for good measure, as if he hadn’t just telegraphed it with the shaking of his head and body language.

She frowned. “I’m surprised you aren’t more angry at them. What they did was pretty big violation of personal space and privacy.”

Steve shrugged helplessly at this. “I think I’m still in shock. I almost tripped over myself retreating from that scene. Besides, I’m sure they, or at least Natasha, had a good reason for doing it there…”

Pepper didn’t bother to point out how _unsure_ he sounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait. Sh!t keeps happening. Plus, I kept on writing separate, unrelated drabbles that would just randomly come to mind.
> 
> On a separate note, I totally pranked my roommate like this once. :)


	3. Take a Deep Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way into the parlor is up a winding stair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the delay--and this chapter has been sitting here for weeks!

“I have something straightforward to ease you into the process.” Natasha told Loki from her recumbent position on _her_ loveseat. Indeed, through daring means Natasha had wrested control back from Loki. That is to say only if daring means includes Natasha leading Loki out of the room then dashing back in to plop on the cushions lengthwise as to prevent enemy occupation. What’s more, she could look as smug as she wanted to because his hands were all but tied now; he couldn’t push her off and he certainly couldn’t just magic her off the couch. Loki had been expressly forbidden from causing unwarranted harm to another person (the contract then went on for pages to address the loopholes, although Loki hadn’t objected too much to the restriction so she was sure he had found one they had missed), and especially through otherworldly means that S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t quite figured out how to contest yet.

Easing him through the process? Loki scoffed. He didn’t need his hand held like a child. (As a child he had loved holding Frigga’s hand—which was warm and soft and _Frigga_ —and swinging his chubby little arms as far as they could go; it wasn’t far.) He didn’t need to be eased into anything.

As if reading his mind Natasha clarified, “It’s not a difficult process, or really a process at all, but there are things I plan on doing that are a little more _involved—_ ” she let the word linger for a moment, “—and I just don’t feel like we know each other well enough. I don’t want to move too fast.” She gave him her best simpering look.

Loki really wished he could do something about the big, fat, cheesy grin pasted across her face.

There was a short staring contest between the two of them: Loki glared and Natasha kept on smiling that damned smile. Natasha broke first and laughed, but she didn’t care. She had the couch. Loki could have a consolation prize of winning a staring contest.

Natasha pronounced with affected gravity, “We have, in our general vicinity, a century-old virgin.”

“And you’re going to rectify that by propositioning him?” He hazarded a guess. Loki wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what role he would play in that scenario. He would admit to being relieved when Natasha snorted. Maybe.

“Steve? Hell no. If anyone needs to be eased into anything, it’s him. I would likely be too, let’s say unorthodox,for his tastes,” she said with a sly look at Loki. He was careful not to show it, but Loki felt a little discomfited by Natasha’s lascivious grin and the way she was leering at him.

…was she propositioning him? …for sex? What kind of sex was unorthodox sex anyway?

“I don’t know if he’s even masturbated before.” Natasha continued on, as if there hadn’t been a brief interlude fraught with sexual tension. And maybe there hadn’t been. After all, he had experienced first hand how well she could play people, play him.

There was another lull in conversation as their thoughts took them to different places.

Natasha took a moment, akin to a moment of somber silence, to think about Steve, because it was a damn shame that nobody had tapped that fine ass before—Darcy’s words, not hers; she hadn’t been nearly drunk enough for that. They had a “girl’s night” a few weeks ago. Pepper had insisted—the testosterone had their sausagefest; the estrogen needed something too.

She had asked Clint what exactly a girl’s night entailed. He first took his sweet ol’ time to laugh hysterically—he paid for that at live-round practice later—before saying it was a time for women to bond and share feelings or something ridiculous like that. Of course he didn’t mention that sometimes male-bonding nights included sharing feelings, usually while absolutely sloshed, and once they braided Thor’s hair. Don’t ask; he won’t tell.

Natasha had been rather dubious about the upcoming female bonding experience; she was a highly trained assassin, a rather specific niche with which none of the other women could identify. But as it turned out, she needn’t have worried (although she would never admit to being worried.) Pepper, Jane, Darcy, and Maria were all vivacious and spirited women. She was actually looking forward to the next gathering, which they had decided to make a monthly thing, provided none of them were buried under paperwork (Pepper), stuck in some time vortex (Jane), in jail for excessive tasering (Darcy), or on S.H.I.E.L.D. business or dead in a ditch (Maria or Natasha.) As if Natasha would ever be caught dead in a ditch.

She was brought back to the present with a fairly vicious poke to her side. Natasha scowled at Loki who, for some reason, was doing his best to look innocent. _A+_ for conviction. _Z-_ for execution. He was the only other person in the room.

Natasha would take the high road here (and get revenge when he least expected it.) “Well,” she pronounced, with a clap of her hands, “let’s get to it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter summary comes from the poem, "The Spider and the Fly."
> 
> More within the week hopefully!


End file.
